


Erotic & Grotesque

by MechanicalMetamorphosis



Category: D'espairsRay, THE MICRO HEAD 4N'S
Genre: AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-06 00:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6730108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechanicalMetamorphosis/pseuds/MechanicalMetamorphosis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The first time we met, I almost killed him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue is in Karyu’s POV.

_On this Friday afternoon, when I entered this café, I never thought I would see two of my old friends. What surprised me the most is that I didn’t even know they knew each other. They were way too different for that, in my opinion._

_Tsukasa I had known since we were five. He wasn’t a very social kid. He was alone in a corner most of the time, and the other kids didn’t want to play with him. At that time, it seemed like I was the only one willing to talk to him. And, just like that, little by little, he opened up to me and let me enter his own little world._

_In junior high school he ignored everyone else. He was more and more secluded, always carrying a note book with him. I had other friends so I had less time for him, and somehow, he didn’t seem to mind. Every time I would come to see him, he would talk to me and he even showed me what was in this note book of his. Drawings and thousand of words. No wonder he became a writer years after. It was really good. Dark, but really good nonetheless._

_He graduated and the more years that passed the less I saw him. The last time I saw him was seven years ago, just after he broke up with his girlfriend. She had never been good for him and tried too hard to change him. Instead, he ended up seeing less and less people, and he told her to pack her things and leave. That’s when he started to smoke, too and, more often than not, there was a bottle of wine sitting next to his pack of cigarettes._

_At the time, he was already a successful writer. He wasn’t Mishima Yukio nor Murakami Haruki, but he was famous enough to get a nice income. The only thing that bothered me was his growing hate for people. Sarcasm and irony became his true friends, and at one point, I wondered why he even bothered to humor me. So I stopped going to his place. He never called me after that._

_Hizumi, on the other hand, was a whole different story. I ran into him several times at the bar, and we started talking about everything and anything. I learned that he was a high school drop-out, and he was planning on becoming a “fucking rock star”, like he said. The guy had an attitude of his own, and never took ‘no’ for an answer. When he was in a bad mood, it was better not to cross him. He always had a foul word to spill at you and, more often than not, he knew where to hit._

_He always walked like the world was his and he was a damn king. Just a king with a permanent scowl on his face. It made him look both cool and dangerous._

_But one day, when he met the right person, he really become the king. His band didn’t stay indie for long, and they became major pretty fast. Hizumi’s voice had something unique. It could make your heart clench. Gave you goose bumps. And the words going with the voice were just too beautiful, sad and powerful not to listen to them. I’ll admit I even cried once during one of his lives._

_But fame came with a price. And his free time was cruelly lacking. He was too busy insulting smokers, anyway. He constantly claimed that he was sick of people polluting the air, since it was already polluted enough as it was. But the real reason behind his hate for cigarette was that the smoke made his throat ache and constrict on its own. It gave him trouble just breathing normally, and he always feared what it could do to his voice. But Hizumi was just too proud to say that. So he went with the polluting bullshit._

_With my job and his, we had less and less occasions to see each other. So really, it was a surprise to see him in this café. No need to say I went to see him right away._

_What I didn’t expect was to see Tsukasa’s arm around Hizumi’s waist like it belonged there. My surprise must have shown on my face since I saw Tsukasa smile slightly before he told me they were lovers.  
Five minutes later, the three of us were sitting around a table as I listened to their explanation. I wanted to know everything. How they met. How they became lovers. It was too surreal for my mind to wrap around the fact that yes, the two of them were dating._

_Tsukasa began his story, and I wasn’t sure if I imagined the little smirk in his voice:_

“The first time we met, I almost killed him.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The light had barely turned green and already, Tsukasa was speeding off, settling his eyes on the road just in time to see there was someone in the middle of the road._

He was late. He was supposed to be at his editor’s office at three and it was already half past three. Damn. Tsukasa growled, watching that infuriating red light. But staring menacingly at it wouldn’t make the damn light turn green. And that was annoying. It was one of the many reasons why Tsukasa was better off staying at home. It was a lot less unnerving. But he had to go out. Well, it wasn’t exactly an obligation, since he only had to hand his manuscript. He could have very well mailed it to his editor. But no. Tsukasa wouldn’t do that. He didn’t trust the posting service. At least he knew the manuscript would go where it was supposed to go and wouldn’t be seen by prying eyes. Tsukasa spent too much time on his books to risk having one of them leak before they came out. And the subway was out of question. He hated traffic jams, but he hated the crowds in the subway even more.

So here he was, still staring at that damn red light from his Mitsubishi. The engine revved, ready to speed as soon as the light decided to finally let him pass.

“Thank God!”

The light had barely turned green and already, Tsukasa was speeding off, settling his eyes on the road just in time to see there was someone in the middle of the road. He slammed on the brakes violently, neck creaking slightly due to the force of the movement, and his head almost hit the wheel. When he raised his head to see if the man was alright, all he could see was the street and some people starting to gather in front of his car.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck…”

Getting out of the car, slightly nervous, he went to the front, praying to all gods he hadn’t killed the man. He had barely made it there when said man raised slowly to his feet. Tsukasa sighed in relief before starting to lash out.

“The light was red for you, why were you in the middle of the road?! I could have killed you!” 

The stranger’s eyes grew wide for a second, and he walked in front of Tsukasa, limping slightly and opened his mouth to answer back, anger flashing in his eyes.   
But no sound came out of his mouth. 

He tried again, to no avail. The man started to panic slightly, raising a hand to his throat, looking at Tsukasa incredulously.

“Oh come on…” Tsukasa groaned, almost sounding like he was whining. This was so not his day…

When it became clear the stranger really couldn’t talk, he saw panic starting to melt back into anger in his eyes. Apparently, the man was ready to kill him. And Tsukasa wasn’t about to die before he could publish his last book. Quickly, he raised both hands to appease the other man.

“Alright, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, okay?”

The man squinted at him then turned on his heels, limping to the passenger door. Tsukasa sighed and went back towards his car, not without a last glance at the small crowd.

“Okay, show is over, now fuck off!”

He wasn’t in the mood to be polite, nor patient. He wanted everyone out of his sight so he could take the man to the hospital then forget all about it. Once they were both in the car, Tsukasa sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, waiting for the crowd to dissipate. He glanced next to him, seeing the man with his arms crossed, a very pissed off expression on his face. Like Tsukasa wanted to be there, tsk… The writer took his phone out, calling his editor. He couldn’t make it on time, obviously. Well, at least, now he had a perfect explanation.

“It’s me. Yeah, I know, but I kinda ran into a problem. Well, someone, more exactly. What? No, I don’t even know who he is. I hit him with the car, so I’m taking him to the hospital…” A growl. “Stop. Freaking. Out. On. Me! I know! I-… Yeah. No, I won’t make it today. I’ll call you when I’m done. Yeah.” Tsukasa hung up, slightly frustrated. He didn’t need to hear about how the manuscript needed to be handed today, nor how he might get into trouble if the man decided to sue him. Tsukasa knew that already. He sighed again before driving to the nearest hospital. He didn’t even feel the need to talk to the other man, nor apologize. He was too pissed off for that. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man trying to get a sound out, but apparently, luck wasn’t on his side either. How a car accident could steal one’s voice away was beyond Tsukasa, but he wasn’t a doctor after all.

\---

It wasn’t until they both sat in the car, after a fruitless trip to the hospital, that Tsukasa felt at a loss of what to do. They had spent a long time to get him tested and try to discover what was wrong with him. The doctors weren’t exactly sure, but after a lot of medical talk, Tsukasa had understood that they could try to do something about his condition. He was to come back for more tests and, eventually, for a surgery if his voice didn’t come back. Furthermore, his John Doe had given him his business card, which only made him realize that he was no John Doe at all. He probably was important or something, judging from the fine paper. The worst thing was still the fact that apparently this Hizumi guy was a singer.   
Well, fuck.

“Should I bring you home? Or maybe to your manager’s or something?”

To say that Tsukasa felt awkward trying to talk with Hizumi was an understatement. After all, he was responsible for the situation they were in, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Hizumi didn’t seem to like it all that much either. The singer sighed and reached into his pocket, seemingly remembering he had his cell phone. He quickly wrote a message then showed it to Tsukasa.

_My place._

The exact address was written, too. It wasn’t that far away, actually, and Tsukasa snorted just thinking about what kind of rat hole Hizumi must be living in. The apartments could be ridiculously expensive in the center of Tokyo, and Tsukasa doubted Hizumi was famous enough to afford a big place over there, judging from his looks. That was why Tsukasa lived so far away. Cheaper rent, less people, more calm.

The only thing none of them predicted was to see a dozen of people in front of Hizumi’s building. A lot of them had huge cameras, which could only mean one thing: paparazzi. One of them pointed their camera towards Tsukasa’s car and they all started taking pictures. The writer didn’t think twice about it when he made a U-turn and went back from where they came. Tsukasa was almost shocked. He never suspected Hizumi was _that_ famous...

“Is it always like that..?”

When he turned to see Hizumi, the man was pale as a sheet, and he slowly shook his head no.

“Well, fuck...”

This could only mean one thing: some people who had witnessed the accident decided to talk. News travelled fast. Tsukasa feared every other place the singer might go to would look like his place had: flooded by photographers, annoying journalists and fans.

“My place it is, then...?”

He could have dropped him off to a hotel maybe, but Tsukasa would have felt like he was running away from this situation, and that was not a thing he did. He was a grown-up man and could face his demons. The fact that he felt guilty and didn’t want to wait to see if Hizumi would sue him kind of influenced his decision.

This time, when he took a look at Hizumi, the man was nodding, a depressed look on his face.

Tsukasa drove him to the outskirts of Tokyo, and the next time he glanced towards his passenger, he was glad to see a somewhat curious look on his face instead of the gloomy expression he had seen earlier.  
Tsukasa indeed lived pretty far from the city, but Hizumi quickly understood why. His apartment was pretty big compared to his own in town, and he even had a nicely sized garden. Not everyone could afford it in this city...

The living room walls were a deep burgundy, but the huge windows prevented the room from looking too dark. Instead, it gave a nice, warm feeling to the room. Hizumi instantly decided he liked it.  
“Since you’ll be staying here at least a few nights, I guess we’ll have to make some arrangements regarding where to sleep...“

The appointment at the hospital had been scheduled a week from now, which meant that Hizumi would be staying at his place for a week. Tsukasa prayed his voice would come back by then, the singer hadn’t been particularly pleased at the mention of a surgery.

Hizumi walked over to the couch and sat on it. A mere second after, he stood up as if he had been bitten and shook his head. Nope. Hizumi wouldn’t be sleeping on it. It was hard as a brick, and Hizumi liked his back far too much to sleep on that rock hard couch. Tsukasa sighed. 

“Okay, take my bed, I’ll take the couch.”

He had a feeling he would be making a lot of concessions out of guilt. At least, this seemed to please Hizumi who promptly began to take a stroll around the place, ending up in Tsukasa’s bedroom. It was definitely big. Big enough to rival Hizumi’s own bedroom. He was even more pleased to discover that they had similar taste in furnishing. Dark, rich colors, with just the right amount of white so as not to make the room look suffocating and depressing. Hizumi was impressed. The man had good taste.

He went straight towards the desk, on which a laptop, a printer and tons of papers were scattered around. Many of those seemed to be the usual, boring administrative-like papers. Others were hand written, full of words. He had a pretty handwriting, Hizumi decided. Right next to the desk was a bookcase, hosting quite a massive collection of books. It took him only a few moments to notice the conspicuous amount of books from the same author. They were all covered in dark leather and looked pretty heavy. Not the kind of book you would take on a trip to the beach. He took one for closer inspection. _Erotic & Grotesque, by TSUKASA_. No, definitely not the kind to read on a beach full of people, it seemed.

“That’s mine.”

Hizumi started, hiding his surprise as much as he could. He hadn’t heard the man following him. The guy was one hell of a ninja. Hizumi took another look at the writer’s name. Tsukasa.  
“That’s my pen name. But I guess you don’t need to know more, _Hizumi_.”

Hizumi let out a silent chuckle. Fair was fair. Tsukasa only knew his stage name, and frankly, none of them needed to know more. They would spend a few days together until Hizumi’s surgery, maybe share a coffee after that, and then Hizumi would be off. The chances of them meeting again were slim to none. Tokyo was a big city, after all, and Hizumi wasn’t a man who believed in fate.

The singer put the book back into its place, then continued his little exploration. Tsukasa, totally ignored, rolled his eyes and went back to the living room. He barely had the time to so much as glance at the couch before his phone went off. With an annoyed sigh, Tsukasa took the call. Two minutes later, he went to look for Hizumi, who was, at the moment, taking in the size of his bathtub.  
“My editor insists on getting the manuscript today. So I’ll have to go out for a bit. Can I leave you alone...?”

One eyebrow raised, Hizumi looked at Tsukasa. What, did he think he was stupid enough to burn the place down while mummy and daddy were out? Hizumi almost sighed at that, but the writer’s gaze had something to it that prevented Hizumi from doing so. The question meant more than that. 

_Can I trust you?_

Hizumi pursed his lips and, had he been able to, he would have grunted. He nodded once, arms crossed petulantly. Tsukasa seemed to think it was enough, for he left the room to fetch his manuscript once again.  
“I would have said ‘make yourself at home’, but you look like you have already,” he said, a smile evident in his voice.

Hizumi’s obvious way of stepping over boundaries made him look interesting instead of rude, at least, that’s what the writer thought. Hizumi seemed to be of the curious type, and he guessed the singer would have mapped out the whole place by the time he came back.

And indeed, Tsukasa’s assumptions were right. While he was away, Hizumi saw everything the writer’s place had to offer. From the boxes under his bed to the ones in his fridge, Hizumi saw it all. He was more than curious, after all. But he tired quite quickly from looking around the place. Tsukasa didn’t seem to hide anything big. Not even one kinky magazine. Nothing. The most shameful thing he had found was a Captain Harlock figurine hidden behind some books. He would have preferred to find a Hello Kitty one, but this would have to do. Hizumi made a mental note to look for juicy material in his computer later, and promptly went to open one of Tsukasa’s books, settling on the bed. The man had no TV, after all, so he had to find something to occupy his mind.

After a few dozen of pages, Hizumi forgot all about his plan to investigate Tsukasa’s computer. Everything he wanted was right under his nose, clearly written, black characters on white pages. The writing was complex but clear, pleasant, even, and Hizumi would have lied if he said he didn’t like it. 

But more than the actual writing, it was the content that fascinated Hizumi. Reading that book was exactly the same as diving into a dark, lust-filled world. Every word tended to be sensual and suggestive in a way not everyone would notice. But Hizumi had a way with words. He knew how to manipulate them to disguise their true meaning. And Tsukasa seemed to do exactly the same...

For someone who didn’t know how to drive, he sure knew how to write like a motherfucking Shakespeare. The singer was impressed. The more he read, the more he discovered that this dark world he had dived into was even more sexual than he had thought. He felt the first licks of arousal deep in his belly, and page after page, he didn’t even stop to think about who would buy that kind of kinky porn, even though it was wisely disguised. Oh no. His mind was too busy creating dark, sensual images.

With a hoarse sigh, Hizumi palmed himself through his pants, his eyes never leaving the soft pages. Tsukasa clearly knew how to keep the reader on edge, refraining from giving too much at once. It was almost like a game between the writer and the reader, of which anticipation was the key.

Hizumi fumbled with his pants for a few seconds so as to be able to slip his hand inside, his fingers curling around his arousal. By that point, his mind was full of the words he had read, and he closed his eyes, repeating a line again and again in his mind. 

_Fuck_... Hizumi’s hand ran quickly up and down, playing with all the images in his mind. Had someone seen him, he would have blamed the lack of action in his sex life. No one seemed wild enough to satisfy his desires. These words seemed to do the job quite nicely, though. He bit his lower lip, frowning ever so slightly. He was about to--  
“Come...”

He threw his head back, not fully registering where the low whisper had come from. His mind was too deliciously clouded with pleasure to wonder why he felt a light touch upon his throat. It wasn’t until the pleasure had lessened that he opened his eyes, his breathing labored.

“Go clean up, dinner is ready.”

Hizumi didn’t dare raise his head until he heard the door closing.

_Well, fuck._ Hizumi wondered for a moment if he could just escape by the window to save him the embarrassment. Tsukasa had just seen him jerking off. To one of his books. In his own bedroom.

And there was a stain on one of the pages.

_Fucking fuck..._

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old thing that has never, ever been finished. I may never finish it if I don't start posting it. So if people are interested, it might help me to think more on it and actually write. It's been years already, it's about time I try to finish it...


End file.
